


911, what is your emergency?

by ttamarrindo



Category: Day6 (Band)
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Fluff, Humor, M/M, also sungjin owns a bar, jaepil brotp cause it's awesome and i need more of it, this is mainly dopil, what a concept
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-16
Updated: 2017-07-16
Packaged: 2018-12-02 18:14:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11514786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ttamarrindo/pseuds/ttamarrindo
Summary: "It's really late and I'm walking home with a dead phone and someone's been following me for the last few blocks so I locked myself inside a phone booth but I was so scared I accidentally dialed the wrong number and I know you don't know me but please come help I'm really scared" au featuring the maknae line.





	911, what is your emergency?

**Author's Note:**

> I did say I wanted to try my hand at other ships. Figures Jaehyunparkian would still manage to sneak in.

It’s only when Jaehyung first starts slurring in English that Wonpil realizes what kind of night this is going to be. 

“And then I- I- said to hi-him-” he hiccups and sniffles a bit, wipes his mouth with the back of his hands. Wonpil wrinkles his nose and hands him a napkin that the older uses to blow his nose loudly. Obnoxiously so. “I said that I didn’t want to suck his dick because, because,” Jaehyung pauses then, scrunches his forehead in thought before he opens his mouth and says, “no wait. I _do_ wanna suck his dick. He has a nice dick, but I wanna like, hold his hand first, you know? Cuddle and shit.”

Wonpil nods, tries to muster up enough energy to appear sympathetic. He fails. Not that Jae minds it, already far too drunk to notice the way Wonpil keeps zoning out on him. Honestly, Wonpil hasn’t understood a single word of what the older just said, too much English and not enough diction. Actually, that’s not quite right. He understood the word ‘dick’, familiar enough with it after being (reluctant) friends with Jaehyung for the past three years. 

It’s enough of a clue for Wonpil to know that the other is most certainly talking about Brian Kang, the supposedly sizzling hot business major Jae has been drooling after for the past, what? Two months? Three now? Wonpil isn’t sure, the only thing he knows is that it’s been long enough for Jae’s hopeless crush to turn from endearingly cute to downright pathetic.

Not that he’s going to tell Jae that, Wonpil muses, swiping a finger over the rim of his half-full chop of beer, now lukewarm and stale. From what Wonpil’s gathered over Jae’s late night whining and his furious spans of texting Brian only seems to be interested in a sort of not-quite-friends with benefits kind of thing. Of course, Jae had been elated at first, more than happy to jump on the Kang wagon and start riding or whatever the hell it is they do behind closed doors. That lasted for about a week, before Jae realized how many walks of shame he was in for and the very minor fact that he was rapidly blundering over the fundamental _do not get attached_ line that Brian had drawn between them at the very start.

Which brings them both here, nursing piss poor beers at the piss poor hole-in-the-wall bar a few blocks away from Wonpil’s piss poor uni apartment.

“Hey, Sugnjin!” Jae calls out, waving at the tired-looking bartender with the hand that’s holding his beer and spilling it all over his lap in the process. “Get us another round, will you?”

Sungjin cocks an eyebrow, shoots Wonpil a look that plainly states he’s not moving from his post behind the bar and continues on wiping down his shot glasses, ignoring Jae’s cries for alcohol, which just get more and more desperate by the second.

“I think you’ve had enough, hyung,” Wonpil mutters, tries to pry the older’s hands away from his glass of beer to no avail. “We should get you home actually, you have class tomorrow.”

“Fuck class,” Jae grouches, slinking lower across the bar’s leather booth so that only the tips of his glasses peek out from under the table. Wonpil sighs. “Fuck Brian Kang too. But like, in the metaphorical sense. I don’t want his dick anywhere near me ever again.”

“Right,” Wonpil snorts, knows Jae will probably go crawling back to Brian by the end of the week. Which will bring them both back here, he thinks morosely. Drowning their sorrows in Sungjin’s awful beer and complaining about their love lives. Or lack of one, in Wonpil’s case. 

Whatever, the thing is that Wonpil and Jae always fall back into the same old situation. The pair of them are a common sight in Sungin’s little bar by this point, as permanent as the creaky door or the broken toilet. Which is why the man doesn’t hesitate to call a cab for Wonpil to shove Jae into and just clicks his tongue exasperatedly at him when Wonpil sheepishly tells him they’ll pay their tab the next time a bad day has them shuffling in.

“Text when you get home, hyung. Don’t forget,” Wonpil reminds Jae as he slips a hand through the cab’s window to crank it lower in case Jae decides to puke his guts out. Which he probably will, with the way his face is beginning to tint green. “But text _me_ , ok? No drunk sexting Brian.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jae mumbles, too drunk to care much about it. Wonpil grimaces. Jae’s a notorious drunk texter, no semblance of shame when he has a few drinks on him, no knowledge of boundaries whatsoever either. Wonpil himself has gotten his fair share of late night calls and the occasional dick pic from him when Jae got too smashed to tell his contacts apart. “Let me wallow in peace, asshole,” he grunts.

Wonpil just sighs, much too sober to deal with this. He pats the side of the cab, pays the driver in advance and adds a few won to the bill for the trouble. Then he watches as the taxi speeds away with Jae’s face plastered all over the window in an effort to give Wonpil the middle finger in a last shot at petty revenge.

“Rude,” he mutters, not bothering to fight the smile that curls around the corners of his lips as he heads back inside the bar.

“You walking home?” Sungjin asks him when he sees Wonpil picking up his jacket from where he left it in the booth. 

“Yeah,” he answers, shrugging it on and patting his pockets to make sure his wallet and phone are all there. Not that they are of much use, mind you. His wallet’s as thin as a sheet of paper right now and his phone ran out of battery a few hours ago because Wonpil got a bit too fidgety on the bus and spend the whole ride trying to beat Jaehyung’s candy crush record. “My dorm’s not far, and I’m not so drunk that I can’t walk.”

“It’s late though,” Sungjin counters, nodding his head towards the dusty clock that hangs from a corner of the bar. It’s already past midnight, so late that it would be easier to call it early. “Wait for me half an hour to close up and I’ll walk you home. It’s not safe to be alone at this time, especially not here.”

“Thanks hyung, but it’s okay. You don’t have to worry.” Wonpil smiles at Sungjin, waves goodbye one last time and rolls his eyes at the way Sungjin huffs at him, not that pleased with his decision.

Honestly, Wonpil appreciates the concern. He knows his neighbourhood is not the best one in the city, but it’s close to his university and just a block away from an all-day open supermarket that sells cheap cup noodles. Wonpil’ll take what he can get.

Besides, it’s not like he’s that drunk either. He had maybe half a beer, knowing Jaehyung was looking to get smashed, which meant Wonpil would have to play the responsible one this time. He’s only pleasantly buzzed, and the haze of alcohol is light enough to disappear as Wonpil breathes in the night’s fresh air and starts the short trek home.

A few minutes later finds Wonpil desperately wishing he had taken Sungjin’s offer when he spots a man trailing a few paces behind him.

Maybe Wonpil is being a bit paranoid - Jae always did say he tended to overreact, storms in teacups or however the saying goes - but this is the fifth turn the shady stranger has taken after Wonpil and he _knows_ that’s no coincidence. Specially because when Wonpil quickens his step the man does the same, trailing close.

Wonpil breathes in raggedly, tries not to panic as he walks faster still, not even pretending he’s not trying to get away now. But the man just keeps on following him, matching his strides to Wonpil’s borderline run. 

Endless scenarios start flashing across Wonpil’s eyes. Most of them end up with him dying a bloody death and being left to rot behind a dumpster. _22-year-old found maimed this morning because he was stupid enough not to accept help_ , the papers will read. Jae will mourn him. At least, Wonpil hopes so. 

Wonpil turns down a corner, uses the moment the man loses sight of him to outright flee. He starts running without a backwards glance, tries to make it into a more crowded part of the city. 

Of course, that’s not so easily done. 

No matter how much Wonpil runs, the streets remain completely deserted, only the lone lights of the street lamps to keep him company. Wonpil wants to curse and he kinda wants to cry too, thinks screaming might help but he really doesn’t want the man to know where he is so Wonpil chooses to stay quiet instead and just _runs_.

Wonpil skids to a halt in front of a lone telephone booth. It’s dirty and worn down and probably about to be moved to the dumpster very, very soon but it has a door and a lock and that, really, is all Wonpil needs.

He dashes inside, locks the door firmly behind him and plasters himself against a corner. Through the fogged glass he spots the man who had been following appear at the other end of the street, squinting around to try and see him.

Wonpil makes a pitiful sound at the back of his throat as he grapples around for the phone. He had thought the man would give up after a while, but he’s still keeping close and Wonpil knows he needs to get help and he needs to do it _now_.

He fumbles around for change inside his pockets, immensely relieved to find a few coins in the back of his jeans. Hands trembling, Wonpil slots them into the phone and then freezes, fingers hovering just over the numbered keys as he tries to think of someone to call.

Jae is out of the question. He’s probably passed out on his couch by this point and Wonpil knows from experience that he won’t be woken even if someone stood over him and banged a couple frying pans over his head. He won’t waste what little change he has trying to wake him up.

Sungjin though, Wonpil can call him. He has the man’s number, surrendered after one too many times either he or Jae or both passed out in his bar. Wonpil thinks he remembers the digits well enough to call it from memory.

One look out of the booth to see the man drawing closer to his hiding spot has Wonpil making his decision.

“Hyung,” he breathes into the phone as soon as he hears the other end pick up. “Hyung, I’m so sorry, I should’ve listened to you. God, I’m such an idiot but there’s this man and - _shit_ he’s coming closer - hyung, he has been following me for a couple of blocks now and I’m locked inside this ratty phone booth please come help me.”

There’s silence for a few agonizingly long seconds before a voice that’s _definitely not_ Sungjin’s coughs and says, “right okay, where are you?”

“I-” Wonpil falters, swallows back the knot of fear lodged high on his throat and squeaks out a very faint, “you’re not Sungjin hyung.”

“No. I’m, uh, Dowoon,” the stranger says, and Wonpil hears the telltale shuffle of sheets, the sound of a door being slammed open and then close. “I think you got the wrong number, but uh, just tell me where you are and I’ll come help.”

“I don’t wanna bother-” Wonpil starts, because he already feels bad enough for waking this oddly kind stranger up and he’s embarrassed enough as it is but then the shady man finally spots him cowering inside the phone booth and Wonpil blurts out the address of the street where he is before he even makes the conscious decision to do so.

“Oh, you’re just a block away from my dorm,” Dowoon says and Wonpil thinks he can hear him panting a little, like he’s running. Wonpil’s knees buckle at the thought, beyond relieved to know he’s close by. “I’m almost there, just wait. I’m gonna hang up so I can-”

“No!” Wonpil cuts in before Dowoon can finish, hears Dowoon stumble in surprise. Wonpil flinches and hurries to explain. “I mean, don’t hang up. Please, I-”

“Hey, it’s okay, I get it,” Dowoon answers back. Then, after a few seconds he says, “I think I see you - _hey, asshole!_ ”

Wonpil whips around at the sound, because Dowoon’s voice is not coming only through the phone, but from outside too. Through the glass, Wonpil spots someone making their way over, phone to one ear as he rushes towards the booth.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he hears Dowoon ask the man, sees how the shady creep falters at the sight of him. Before Dowoon can do much else the man turns on his heels and flees, metaphorical tail tucked firmly between his legs. 

Wonpil slumps against the glass of the booth, feels his heart finally start to slow down the more the man’s silhouette disappears into the night. 

“Hey,” Wonpil hears someone say, looks up to find Dowoon peering into the phone booth. “Can I uh, can I hang up now?” he asks, motioning to the phone he still has pressed to his ear. Wonpil blinks dazedly back at him, nods once, and then goes to unlock the door.

“Hi,” Dowoon starts, rubbing the back of his neck in an awfully sheepish gesture that makes his ears turns red at the tips as he offers Wonpil a hand out of the booth. “I’m Dowoon, but you - you already know that don't you?” He stutters, flails around for words the longer Wonpil keeps on looking at him. In the end, he sighs and settles for a tentative wave and a simple, “hi, it’s uh, nice to meet you.”

“Hi?” Wonpil blurts out before he think much about it. “You just saved my live, I - oh my god, thank you so much.” 

Dowoon turns even redder at that, smiling shyly down at him, and he’s quite the sight really, dark hair and even darker eyes that seem so kind at the same time, broad shoulders hidden by the baggy shirt Wonpil guesses he must sleep in. 

“I just wanted to help,” he shrugs, like it’s no big deal to have come defend a total stranger who woke him up at ass o’clock in the morning from a possible mugging. 

“I would offer something in thanks,” Wonpil starts, smiles at him and hopes that it manages to translate his gratitude, “but I’m freezing and still reeling a bit and right now all I want is to go home, so.”

“No, no it’s okay,” Dowoon answers, motions frantically at Wonpil to show him that he’s fine with his total lack of manners. “I get it, seriously. I should head home too.”

“Right,” Wonpil says, then he blurts out, “unless you want to come home with me.” 

Dowoon blushes bright red at that, and Wonpil hurries to explain, though there’s really not much to the matter. “I mean, who knows right? The creep could come back and you-” _you make me feel safe somehow and you’re also really cute and please come home with me_ is what Wonpil wants to say, but he bites his tongue before the words can come spewing out and humiliate him even further. “Yeah that,” he finishes lamely, stares at the square inch of dirty pavement next to his left foot in silent shame.

“Okay,” Dowoon agrees, making Wonpil snap his head up and look at him. His ears are still red but he’s grinning now too, soft and shy. Wonpil kind of wants to melt into the floor. “To uh, to keep you safe.”

“Yes, of course,” Wonpil agrees, smiles back at Dowoon and starts the short walk back to his dorm with Dowoon’s shoulder bumping into his and their hands just a breath away from intertwining.

 

(And, if the next time Jae calls him up to drown their love sorrows in Sungjin’s terrible beer and Wonpil doesn’t offer much to the conversation because he knows that Dowoon is going to be at the door waiting to walk him home when the time comes, well, no one can say that Wonpil doesn’t know how to make the best out of a bad situation.)

**Author's Note:**

> I love pining Jae. 
> 
> Please tell me what you thought! It's my first time writing Dopil (such a cute shipname omg) so I'm hella nervous. Any kind of feedback is appreciated <3
> 
> Find me on [Tumblr](https://jahehyung.tumblr.com/)and send me prompts!


End file.
